


Rekindled Desire

by lenafuckingstew



Category: The Runaways (Band)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-07
Updated: 2011-05-07
Packaged: 2017-10-19 03:11:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lenafuckingstew/pseuds/lenafuckingstew





	Rekindled Desire

It’s been 2 weeks since she had gotten the forward for her book Neon Angel: A Memoir of a Runaway. Written by someone she holds close to her heart.

Cherie Currie lays in her bed clutching that piece of paper, only a page and a half long, is wrinkled and worn out from being read over and over. She reads it every night before bed, those feeling coming back every time. The feelings for that women with the black hair, raspy voice, beautiful smile, and the one everyone knows, Joan Jett.

Seems like it was yesterday, touring, preforming, and just hanging out. Her, and Joan were in a band together, The Runaways, they were inseparable, Joan and Cherie. The band members always hanged out with different band members, but not Joan and Cherie. They were always glued to the hip.

Cherie smiled at a memory she remembered with Joan. They were on tour, and had been drinking and doing drugs. It was Joan and her sharing a room this time. She remembers everything that went down, so she didn’t think she was too wasted to remember. Joan’s lips on hers, the feeling of their bodies touching. They never really talked about that night, but Cherie always thought about it, and what could be.

Thinking about that night made her feel a little hot, and then felt the warm wetness in her underwear. “Oh.” she said surprised. She hadn’t felt like this in years. She placed the paper back on her night stand, and took her glasses off and laid them on it, and turned the light out. Rolling over ignoring the sensation, she closed her eyes. But the pictures of that night flooded her brain. Rolling over onto her back, she looked up at the ceiling. She thought why not, sticking her hand down her pajama pants and feeling that stuff she hadn’t felt in years. She moaned, Woah, she thought. She continued to move her hand back and forth, it felt good, too good actually. She kept doing it, and thought of the beautiful women who stole her heart, since she was 16 years old.


End file.
